Guardian Angel
by KartheyM
Summary: Set post-Season 1, Roy Harper joins the Hood's ranks in time to hear of yet another businessman that has failed Sterling City. But all is not as it seems, and someone will go to great lengths to ensure that the Hood cannot achieve justice. Who is protecting the businessman's daughter and what does it have to do with Roy? *Could really use some feedback, folks! :D
1. Chapter 1: Shakedown

Laurel Lance sighed as she shifted another box of files. Six weeks since she had been released from the hospital after her injuries had healed from when the earthquake demolished the old office in the East Glades, and workers were still hauling files out of the rubble.  
Laurel set the box down and rubbed her side. Why did broken ribs take so long to heal?

"Stop complaining, Laurel," she muttered to herself, "at least you're still alive." She had Tommy Merlyn to thank for that. He'd gone from self-centered, lazy playboy to the man who would give his life for her—but he never had the chance to reap the fruit of his efforts.  
Laurel quickly swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped away the tears in her eyes.

"Knock-knock!" called a voice that never failed to make Laurel's heart race.  
Oliver Queen stepped into the auxiliary offices of CNRI, looking none too shabby for the ordeal he survived. His nose had broken, his arm was still in a sling, but the bruises and cuts on his face had almost disappeared completely. He smiled at Laurel, his blue eyes piercing her hazel ones.

"How is the move going?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

Laurel sighed, "Still moving," she quipped, accepting the hug. "Workers are still combing the wreckage, but it doesn't look like they'll find much more than what we have here—" she gestured to the disorganized heap of dirty file boxes, "and that's less than half of what we had."

Oliver surveyed the scene pensively. "You'll make do," he reassured her. "I'm sure the ones you have here were a lot of the ones that mattered, anyway."

Laurel shrugged and went back to sorting files into brand-new cabinets, courtesy of the old Merlyn Global offices, since their business had been appropriated by Queen Consolidated upon the demise of the two remaining Merlyn family members.

"I suppose," she responded. "But still, what are we going to do for missing cases? Word of mouth?"

"Ms. Lance?" A tentative voice came from the doorway. Oliver turned and allowed a short, thin, balding man to enter. He smiled at the young attorney. "Hi, I'm Jeff, you said we'd meet today to discuss my case?"

Laurel frowned, "I'm sorry—we've been kind of backlogged lately...what case was that?"

Jeff eyed the stacks of files and nodded. "The one against DuPries and Associates," he supplied, "about the swindling?"

Oliver's ears pricked at the mention. DuPries wasn't a name on his father's list, but what was one less crooked businessman to Starling City?

Laurel blushed, and Jeff nodded, "I see; I don't mind starting from the beginning, as long as justice can be served."

Oliver could see Laurel glancing uneasily in his direction. He took the initiative. "Well on that note," he announced with a grin, "I'd better get going. It was great to see you, Laurel," he nodded to her.

She nodded back with a rare smile. "Good to see you too, Ollie. Tell Thea I said hi."  
"I will if I see her," Oliver answered.

Once outside, he dialed Felicity.  
"I need you to look up DuPries and Associates," he informed her.  
"Why?" she asked over the clatter of keys, "Is it going to be your next target?"  
"That depends on what you can find, Felicity," Oliver answered. "I'm on my way there now." He smiled, "By the way, how's the new recruit?"  
"He's just fine," Felicity answered with amusement in her voice. "Diggle's showing him the ropes."

In the hideout beneath the Verdant Club, Felicity turned and smiled just as the brawny bodyguard delivered a driving blow to the head of the Hood's newest recruit—Roy Harper.

* * *

Oliver arrived to find Diggle surveying the monitors with Felicity. Roy sat off to the side, cradling an ice pack against his bruised cheek and staring murderously at Diggle.  
"Hey," Oliver walked over to him. "How is day three?"

"Fine," Roy mumbled around a fat lip.

Oliver smirked, "Guess you're going to have to cancel that date with my sister tonight—unless you'd rather try and explain what happened."  
Roy rolled his eyes.  
"He's getting faster," Diggle informed his friend. "There's only a few tricks he still has to learn."

"Good," Oliver had moved on to surveying the information Felicity had gathered. "Now how about our Mr. DuPries?"

"Shifty as they come," Felicity commented wryly. "Missing funds, back-door deals, shoddy work conditions—Man," she shook her head. "This guy has to be stopped! Here's evidence that the guy took donations to improve work conditions at his factory—"

"And the workers never saw a cent," Oliver clenched his jaw. This was hitting close to home, reminding him of how his father once ran the steel mill.  
He reached for the hood.

"I wouldn't chance it if I were you," Felicity warned him.

Oliver glanced at her, "I thought you said he had to be stopped."

"Yeah," she replied slowly, "but not that way."

He raised his eyebrows. "What are you not telling me?"

Felicity pulled up a few articles from several years ago. "The guy is an eccentric hermit. He's been holed up in his house for years. Does all his business from there."  
"Cell phone or e-mail?"  
"Nope, a land line and fax machine."  
"Dang," Diggle cried, "this guy must be from the Stone Age! Who uses a fax machine any more?"  
"This guy does." A smile played around the blonde's mouth. "No one goes in or out—except his daughter."  
Oliver sat forward, "Daughter?"

Felicity pulled up another page. "When I saw how impregnable his security systems were, I started looking at the daughter. Meet Geraldine Romola Amelia DuPries, her daddy's pride and joy, and the only family he has." She clicked through pictures of Miss Geraldine wearing designer clothing at high-end hot-spots.

"What does she do?" Oliver asked, as a plan clicked together in his mind. "Shopping?" Geraldine reminded him a bit of Thea.

"Mostly," Felicity responded. "She's attending a European-style girls' finishing school for upper-crust elites. She goes out in the morning, attends classes, hits the mall, goes home."

"Security detail?"

Diggle snorted, "If he's got his house locked up so tight, you can bet he's got his daughter on a tight leash!"

Felicity brought up traffic camera stills. "If she does, they're experts at not being seen. Geraldine seems to go where she wants, with nobody obviously following her."  
"Are you sure her bodyguards aren't just really good at blending in or something?" Roy suggested before Oliver could stop him.

Felicity actually removed her glasses to nail him with a death-glare. "I sat here for over two hours running every face in a single shot through the recognition system data from another shot. No matches—ever!"

"Okay," Oliver regained focus on the mission at hand, "So the mark is inaccessible, but the daughter has free rein—" he grinned at the others. "That's my in." He swung his hoodie on with a snap.  
"What are you going to do?" Diggle asked.

"I'll wait in an alley, grab her, and bring her back here," Oliver answered. "Digs, you and Roy can get a room ready for our guest. Preferably one with a camera."  
Diggle nodded.

"Can't I go with you?" Roy begged.

Oliver shook his head. "The fewer the better," he answered, and departed.


	2. Chapter 2: How (Not) To Steal A Million

Felicity trailed Geraldine on traffic cameras and relayed the information to Oliver.  
"She's two blocks ahead of you, turning left."  
"Got it—Gah!"  
"What was that?"  
"Pigeon."  
"Don't do that to me!" Felicity clapped a hand over her heart.

She listened to Oliver grunt for a while as he crossed rooftops to stay out if sight. Finally, he reported, "I've got eyes on her."  
"Good," Felicity responded.  
The earbud clicked.  
"What was that?" Felicity asked.  
"Wasn't me," Oliver said. "Did y—"  
The rest of his question disappeared in a burst of static. Seconds later, Felicity watched as the traffic feed cut out.  
"Oliver?" she tried switching the comm off and on again. "Oliver! Mr. Queen!"

"What's up?" Diggle came over.  
"It's Oliver," Felicity gasped. "I think something's wrong. His earbud went ourt and then I lost visual!"  
Diggle grabbed his jacket. "Where did you lose him at?"  
"Fourth and Jefferson," Felicity answered.  
"Got it; I'm going after him—"  
"No need." Oliver himself clumped down the stairs, scowling. He pulled the bud out of his ear and tossed it on the desk.

"I thought I told you to upgrade these," he berated Felicity.  
"I did!" She insisted. "These are brand new! See? The packaging is still sitting at the end of the desk!"  
Oliver folded his arms. "Then explain to me what happened out there."

Felicity plugged the receiver into the computer and ran a diagnostics check on it. When it finished, she threw up her hands. "I have no idea," she huffed. "Nothing is wrong with the equipment."  
Oliver shook his head. "We have to be able to nab her without risk of interference."  
"What about planting a bug on her?" Felicity retorted bitterly.  
Oliver glanced at her. "I can't go out there on the ground; my face is too recognizable."  
"I'll do it!" Roy cried.

Oliver smirked and shook his head, "You're still too risky; this job has to be done just right. Felicity," he pointed to her as she flinched, "you'll plant the bug, and as soon as it is activated, I'll herd her into an alley and bring her back here."  
"While I what?" Diggle demanded, "Sit here and watch the monitor? What if something happens?"  
Oliver shrugged, "Nothing is going to happen! I won't make a move till it's safe for me to do so, and even if we don't get her, at least she'll have a bug so we can track her." He cut off any further discussion by looking at Felicity. "Are you ready?"  
She slipped on a heather-grey knit hoodie. "Ready," she replied.

Oliver and Felicity set off to Geraldine's last known location, a shopping strip, where Felicity maintained visual via a traffic cam angled on the entrance.  
"Wait till she comes out," Oliver suggested, "then slip it on her."  
"Purse or pocket?" Felicity was trying to steady her nerves by taking deep breaths, but it wasn't working.  
"Pocket is fine, but purse would be better." He tapped the bud in his war to make sure it was secure. "I'll let you know when and where I'm in position."  
"Okay." Felicity's voice still trembled, though her body was absolutely still and composed.  
Oliver climbed the nearest fire escape all the way to the roof. From there, he vanished. Felicity knew that even if she looked she would not see him or have any idea where he went. Sometimes Oliver was way too creepy in "Hood-mode."

She resumed watching the store. At last, the dark-haired young woman emerged. Felicity fell in with the milling crowd walking past the store front. She dodged ever so slightly around moving bodies to catch the leather lip of Geraldine's purse and drop the bug inside.  
"It's in," she muttered when she reached the end of the block. "Is it active yet?"  
"Coming online," Diggle responded slowly. "And—we're green."  
"Where is she now?" Oliver asked.  
Felicity maintained sight of Geraldine as Diggle answered, "It looks like she just took off in the other direction."  
"Wait, took off?" Felicity watched the easily-meandering girl. "No she's not, she's right in front of me!"  
"I don't see her," Oliver stated.  
Felicity looked fruitlessly toward the roofs as if she could make out Oliver's position.  
"She's right—" Felicity watched as a motorcyclist pulled up to the curb and grinned at Geraldine, who frowned and kept walking. The cyclist swung off his bike and strode after her. He caught her elbow, and she swung at him. He gripped her arm, and she couldn't struggle out of his grasp.

"Guys?" Felicity spoke up, "I think there's a mugging going down."  
Oliver swore, "Where?"  
"Alley next to Gabrielle's."  
"On my way. Felicity, meanwhile, find out what happened to that bug."  
"It's headed back your way," Roy hollered. "It's—" he hesitated as the green blip disappeared. "Gone," he finished.  
"Gone?" Felicity asked.  
"Whoever had it must have found it," Oliver concluded.  
Felicity peeked into the alley, but made sure she kept walking so whoever it was would not suspect.  
"Oliver, I count six guys in that alley," she said.  
"Make that eight," he answered, and she knew he'd arrived. Felicity glanced up to see the silent Hood, with bow drawn, waiting to take his shot.

Down in the alley, things suddenly went wrong. No one quite saw where he came from, but suddenly there was a small, fast person in a red knit hoodie, punching faces, twisting arms, and driving the thugs away from their victim, meanwhile providing an alternate target for their violence.

"Dammit, Roy!" Oliver barked, "I thought I told you to stay put! Now I can't get a clear shot!"  
"I'm sitting right here!" Roy snapped back.  
"He's with me, Oliver," Diggle confirmed.  
"Well then who's that?" Oliver cried.

The thugs began to fight back, and Oliver suddenly noticed Geraldine slip around the corner opposite of where Felicity was waiting.  
"Felicity stop her!" he called, but it was too late. Geraldine reached the other side of the crosswalk and boarded a waiting bus back into the city.  
Oliver sighed and dropped from the fire escape. He dispatched the thugs in short order, driving them away from the red-hooded stranger. Feeling a sense of betrayal, he pulled back the hood to uncover the face.  
Felicity walked up behind him.  
"What's a girl doing here?" she cried incredulously as they surveyed the bruised and battered face and the tangle of dirty-blond hair under the hood. Instantly, Felicity backpedaled, "I mean, not that I'm being sexist or anything, girls can fight too, and after all, it's perfectly natural for a girl to have a girl bodyguard-"

Oliver shook his head and motioned for her to just shut up and help him.


	3. Chapter 3: Family Matters

Her eyes snapped open, and she made a sour face. Oliver moved into her line of vision, and she almost jerked off the table. He reached out to reassure her, and she slapped his hand away.  
"Easy," Oliver spoke gently to the blonde-haired stranger. "We don't want to hurt you. You're safe now. How do you feel?"

She gagged, "I feel like something crawled in my mouth and died there."

He grinned at her description of Yao Fei's wonder-drug. "That will wear off, I promise."

She squinted at Oliver. "Who are you? Where am I?" Her eye fell on the green hood behind him, and she gasped. "Wait! You're_ him_? No way!" She gazed around at his arsenal, and the truth became undeniable. "Oh my gosh," she mused, "I just got rescued by the Hood!" She chuckled in amazement and moved to try sitting up. Suddenly, she tensed as a look of concern crossed her face. "Gerry! Where's my phone?" she demanded.

Oliver gave her the black flip-phone. "Right here; it doesn't work, though. It might have been damaged in the fight."

The girl grinned and pressed a few buttons. She glanced up at Oliver, "It's specially modified; you just have to know which buttons to push."

"Who's Jerry?" Felicity piped up.

The girl suddenly adopted the manner of a cornered animal, eyes deliberately fixed on her own person and away from everyone else. "No one-a boy...friend...ish... it's no one." Her voice was choppy, and obviously lying. Her eyes did not meet theirs, but she searched for something else to focus on. Oliver was just about to ask her name, when she suddenly glared at something behind him.

"_You_!" she snarled, confidence replaced by seething hatred. "I should have killed you when I had the chance!"  
Oliver turned in confusion as Roy approached them.

The girl seemed to forget her injuries as she suddenly launched herself at him from the table. Roy dodged and twisted, but she lashed out anyway, tripping him. Instantly she was on top of him, threatening to smash his head on the pavement. "You scum!" she screamed. "I swore I'd make you pay! You're nothing—"

"HEY!" Oliver reached in and hauled her off his protege. Still she threw punches toward him, even though he was out of reach. Tears ran down her face.

Diggle glanced at Roy, "Do you two know each other?"  
Roy shook his head frantically.

The girl sneered. "Sure I know him, I was there the day he was born! Roy William _Harper-Freacking-Junior_!" She spat the name in cutting syllables. "Mom probably figured there was a better chance of Dad coming back to us if he found out about Junior!"  
"Dad?" Roy spluttered, "Our dad?"  
"Yes _our_ dad!" She twisted out of Oliver's grip, but did not attack her brother again. "What mom didn't figure on was having to raise two kids, so when the axe fell, guess who got chopped? _Me_! She wasn't my mom, she couldn't care less about someone else's flesh-and-blood, oh no! It was always all about Little Baby Roy, Mama's Pride and Joy!" Her mouth twisted in a grimace as she mocked him. "So she puts me in the foster system."

"What did you do then?" Felicity asked, enthralled by the girl's tale.

The girl snorted. "I ran away," she answered derisively, as if stating the obvious. "If my own mother didn't even want me, I sure as heck wasn't gonna let another woman own me!" She resumed glaring at Roy. "I swore as I ran that I would find the kid who screwed me over and kill him."

"Not any more," Oliver warned her. "Roy's with me."

She whirled around and looked him in the eye. "Then I want in, too."  
Oliver blinked, "Excuse me?"  
"What?" Roy cried.

She extended her hand. "Call me Izzy; if Junior's good enough for the Hood, you'll like me even better." She grinned as Oliver shook her hand. "Besides, if you want to get to Geraldine DuPries, you'll have to get through me, anyway."  
Oliver cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm her bodyguard," Izzy explained.

Oliver and Diggle exchanged glances. They had discussed the girl's proficiency in combat—if a bit overconfident—while she'd been unconscious.

"Oh," Felicity gasped, "Then it must have been you who intercepted the bug."

Izzy nodded. "Yeah, and re-routed the signals from your electronic equipment." she frowned, "What does the Hood have against DuPries, anyway?"

Oliver's face grew serious. "The man has been mistreating his workers and embezzling funds to pad his own pockets. It is men like him that have failed this city, and must be rectified."  
Izzy frowned, "DuPries? No way, man. You've got him all wrong."

"Have we?" Oliver pulled up the files Felicity had uncovered. "Look at this: work orders, back-door authorizations, pay cuts, budget cuts, tax breaks—"

Izzy watched it all in evident confusion. "There must be some mistake—"

"What mistake?" Roy cut in, unhappy with the way this girl who claimed to be his sister hated him for the very fact of being born. "I thought you said you wanted to run with the Hood. That means that you don't tell him—"

"Roy," Oliver stopped him, "It's fine." He glanced back at their newest member. "Izzy's inclined to object because she's on the payroll."

"That's not true!" Izzy snapped. "I don't see what that has to do with Gerry, anyway."

"We know he spoils her, practically worships her," Oliver answered, "so it follows that the surest way to secure his involvement would be to kidnap Geraldine and hold her till he complied."  
Izzy shook her head. "Uh-uh, no way! You've got it way wrong for sure! He loves his daughter, and she loves him right back. It's not worship, it's family."

"What do you know about family?" Roy sneered.

"I may not know or care much about _my_ family," Izzy rejoined, "but I will say this: If anybody knows Gordon and Geraldine DuPries, it's me! I know when and where he takes his breakfast and how he likes it, when he gets down to business, what he does first, what paper he reads, which section he reads first, when Gerry leaves for school, who she sees, what route she takes, her class schedule, the kinds of people she shies from, her crushes, her affinities, how long she waits before heading home, how Gordon greets his daughter, what bedtime stories she asks him to read, and—" She stopped when she realized she'd said the entire thing in one breath. Everyone was staring at her—even Felicity. "If you're going to do this right," she took a deep breath, "you need me," she finished emphatically. "Because you've already tried getting her without me, and it failed."

Oliver sighed, "Fine, but we do this my way."

Izzy met his gaze. "Fine, but if she so much as chips a fingernail, she is gone and I swear you will never get within two blocks of her again."

Oliver slipped his hood on, "Fair enough, wasn't planning on hurting her anyway, just scaring her father."

Izzy nodded and picked up one of the earbuds from the desk.  
"I'll contact you when she finishes school tomorrow. That way, you won't be holding her very long before DuPries misses her."  
Oliver nodded, and Izzy trudged up the stairs, still nursing her wounds as she went.

The next afternoon, as Izzy promised, the abduction went off without a hitch. Izzy was able to actually get into the school near the end of the day, posing as a student with the right identification and even uniform. She subtly guided the group of girls Gerry hung out with past a suitably dark alley, and then—with a well-placed jostle at just the right moment—jarred Geraldine into an alley without anyone noticing. They went about their normal activities completely unaware that not one but two of their schoolfellows were missing.

Back at the hideout, the five members of what was fast becoming "The Hood Gang" surveyed the day's work on the closed-circuit camera installed in the corner of the empty utility closet behind the Verdant Club. Geraldine sat in a chair, blindfolded, gagged, bound, and petrified.  
"That's done." As usual, Oliver was already onto the next phase of his mission. "Now for the call."

Izzy's head snapped around. "Wait a minute," she cried frantically, "What call?"

Oliver shrugged, as if he'd explained the whole plan already. "The ransom demand. He can't know the Hood is involved in her capture; we have to make him desperate enough to beg me to rescue her at any cost."  
"Are you insane?" She slipped the phone out of his hand before he could dial. "His daughter is missing, and so is her bodyguard! He's likely terrified already. A ransom demand would probably kill him!"

Oliver snatched at the phone, but Izzy twisted away. He frowned, "That's a risk he should have considered before getting into bed with gangs like the Madre Muerte!"

Izzy would not give the phone back. "The who? DuPries would never do such a thing!"

Oliver kept his voice deadly calm, as if he were negotiating with a volatile target. "Give me the phone, Izzy; you promised to do things my way."

"Yeah well, I didn't figure you for a bully!" She retorted. "Can't you just go tell him in person?"

He moved, and she jumped back. Finally, Oliver sighed. "Fine." He turned heel and grabbed his hood and his bow. He turned back and jabbed a finger at her. "Don't try anything funny while I'm gone." He glanced at the other three. "Make sure she doesn't leave or try anything."  
Diggle nodded while Felicity and Roy glanced at each other uneasily.  
"I'll guard Gerry myself," Diggle assured Oliver.

Gordon DuPries sat in his customary after-dinner chair before the fire, but no Gerry came to greet him. The house was so empty and chilling without her. He had never noticed before just how big it was.  
Suddenly, the lights flickered out. Gordon yelped; he was too scared to get out of his chair to try the switch.

"_Gordon DuPries, you have failed this city_!"


	4. Chapter 4: Knock-Down, Drag-Out

The deep, hollow voice made the businessman tremble all over.  
"W-w-why are you doing this?" He demanded of the Hood. "Where is my daughter?"  
"I have found your daughter in the custody of the gang who took her, a gang you know well!" the Hood answered. "I am prepared to return her to you—if you renounce your ties with them and end your secret dealings."

"What are you talking about?" Gordon was so frantic he was almost screaming. "I don't know anything about any gang! By Heaven, if they hurt her—"

"What about the money, then?" Oliver interjected. "Don't think I don't know about the cut corners, the shabby work conditions, the extra funds to grease your own palms!" He punctuated his words with an arrow between Gordon's feet.

"PLEASE!" Gordon shrieked. "I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING! I JUST WANT TO SEE MY DAUGHTER AGAIN! I'LL PAY YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT!"  
The Hood produced a small laptop from the messenger bag at his side. "Very well; I took the liberty of placing her under surveillance before coming to you." He pulled up the live footage from the camera. Geraldine still remained as she had been, ever so still, not struggling at all. "You can see that she has not been harmed—yet." He turned the laptop so Gordon could see it.

The man gasped. "Wh-where is she? What have they done with her? Why is she gone?"  
The Hood took back the laptop. "That is the price for failure," he said quickly. "You must solve the issue of your factory, or I will visit again."

Just then a voice Gordon never expected to hear again floated up the stairs.  
"Daddy?"  
He heard the familiar clatter of footsteps and the lights flickered back on, revealing him to be alone in the room till Geraldine ran in and threw her arms around him.  
"Oh Daddy, I was so scared I'd never see you again!"  
"But Gerry," Gordon spluttered, "How did you escape? The Hood said you'd been captured by a gang."

Gerry nodded, "They grabbed me in an alley after school. I was tied up all day long. But I couldn't see who rescued me. He wore a dark hood and didn't say much, just helped me get past the guard and out of there!"  
Gordon held his daughter close. "I don't care what happens to the business; I never want to lose you again."

Meanwhile, a flip-phone in his pocket vibrated. He opened it and read the code, signaling that the constant tail he paid to shadow his daughter had been the one to secure her release. The Ghost was certainly worth every penny.

Back at the hideout, Oliver stormed down the stairs to find all four members exactly as he left them. He nailed Izzy with a glare. She kept a neutral expression.  
Oliver confronted Diggle first. "I thought you were guarding Geraldine."

"I was!" Diggle protested. "Till I blacked out for no apparent reason and by the time I woke up, she was gone!"

"You!" He barked at Izzy, "I thought we agreed that Geraldine would be held until Gordon cooperated."

"I thought we agreed you were just going to talk to him, not threaten him!" Izzy snapped back, her face twisting into a scowl.

Oliver clenched his fists. "All of the last couple days has been for nothing, thanks to you!"

"Yeah, well, I've said from the beginning that you've got the wrong guy! You heard him, he doesn't know anything! Lay off!"

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"Don't you dare touch the DuPries family again!"

"Is that a threat?"

"You bet it is!"

Oliver glared at the defiant young woman. "Get out," he growled.

Izzy's face fell and she blinked. "What?" she gasped.

Oliver pointed to the stairs. "Out; _now_! I can't have you interfering with my plans every time you don't agree, so I'm giving you the chance to leave before I throw you out!"

Izzy looked at the others, but nobody seemed interested in getting involved with the fight. She tossed the earbud away and calmly strode to the stairs.

"And Izzy?" Oliver continued, "If I find that you have breathed a word about me or any of the others or this place, I will personally track you down and kill you."

She stomped up the stairs without looking back.  
Oliver turned to see Roy watching him.  
"Wasn't that a little harsh?" the young man wanted to know.  
Oliver rolled his eyes, "Don't _you_ start," he muttered.  
Roy ran up the stairs.

"I'll go put things back upstairs," Diggle volunteered.  
Felicity turned back to the computers screens, and Oliver could tell she was re-combing the information they had on DuPries, trying to determine who was right, him or Izzy.

Up in the residential area of Starling City, Izzy sat in the place she lived most of the time, her favorite place to be: a tree that grew taller than the wall surrounding the DuPries estate, from which she could see into both Gordon's office and Geraldine's bedroom. She sat and sobbed.

"Hey."  
A voice made her flinch and almost lose her balance. Izzy looked down through the tears. Roy stood at the foot of the tree. How had he found her?

"Go away," she snarled.

"Not till you talk to me."

"I said get outta here!"

"Dammit, Izzy," Roy burst out, "I've spent my whole life thinking I was completely alone! You have no idea—"

"_I_ have no idea?" She finally dropped out of the tree and got in his face. "You're the one who got all the attention! I was left on my own long before you were even toilet trained!"

"Yeah, well, I don't even remember Mom," Roy retorted. "She left me like she left you, and I think she died. Dad showed up for a bit, but as soon as I was old enough he split and that was the end!" He clenched his jaw to keep the tears at bay. "We have both been alone for so long; let's not keep doing this."

"Yeah? Well maybe I _like_ it!" Izzy snapped.

"What, sitting in a tree watching some silver-spoon diva lead a privileged life?"  
"She's not a diva!" Izzy retreated up the tree.

Roy followed her. From the vantage point, he watched DuPries reading from a book to his daughter. He closed the book, kissed Gerry's cheek, and turned out the light. He looked at his sister to see that his sister's cheeks were wet.

"I've been watching her every day since Mr. Dupries hired me five years ago," Izzy murmured. "At first it was just a job I'd spent most of my life training for."  
"Training to be a bodyguard?" Roy asked.

Izzy shrugged, "Bodyguard, mercenary, assassin, spy, shadow, contact, courier—my employers offered a wide range of services to their clients. Five years ago, DuPries contacted them because he was receiving death threats from a gang in the same area as his factory in the Glades, and he didn't want anything to happen to his daughter. He wanted someone to be able to be with her at every moment, even in school. That's why my employers selected me, because I was about the same age as Gerry, and thus could go where no conventional bodyguard would ordinarily be allowed: the Starling City Girls' Academy." Izzy sighed.  
"For five years I followed her around when she left home every day, came back every night to watch the two of them together—and imagine what it would be like to be her sister." She smirked wistfully at her brother, "I guess a part of me still really wanted a family, even if the only one I could call 'my family' was a bunch of disappointments and abandonment." She set her jaw as the tears returned-remorse now, though, not anger-and continued firmly, "The Hood is _wrong_, Roy. DuPries is _not _the man he says he is. I have watched that man smile at her and hold her hand and hug and kiss his daughter and basically-" she rubbed her nose to still the rising sobs, "basically do everything I wish our dad had done. She is precious to him, not an idol, but a treasure."

Roy sat and listened to the sister he'd never known talk about family in a way that was completely foreign to his life-and yet he cherished those same dreams. Doubt began to form in his mind; was it possible that Oliver might be mistaken? Roy wanted to push that thought away-but found that he couldn't.

Izzy picked at a nearby burl, not sure how to handle the thick silence that crowded around them after her outburst.

"Well," she sighed, "you should go. I'm staying here."

Roy glanced up the tree, "Do you actually live up here?"

Izzy swung her legs easily from the branch. "Not this one in particular; see that bigger one over there?" She pointed to a larger, older tree down the block. Roy could see a squarish shape spanning its branches. "That's where I sleep, anyway." She studied her brother for a moment. "You can come see it if you want...I guess."

Roy glanced up at the sudden invitation, but Izzy was already crawling across the branches. He clung to the branch he'd been balancing on and now attempted to haul himself over to the branch she had just vacated. Crawling across the flat, sturdy branches, he crossed lightly over to the platform where Izzy waited. There was a sleeping bag there, and a duffel beside it.

They waited in silence. "Comfy," Roy noted, unsure of what else to say.

Izzy shrugged, "It's definitely more than I had on the streets. I get paid for this gig, too, so when it gets cold, I have a tent I bring up here to keep the wind out."

Roy couldn't help himself. He snorted, "If you get paid, why do you sleep in a tree? Why not rent an apartment or something?"

Izzy scowled at him. "Fine! You can just go back to your Hood gang! Sleep well, knowing that your crusade on an innocent man is airtight!"

Roy flinched, "Izzy, that's not what-"

She shoved her legs into the sleeping bag and pulled it over her head to shut out the light of the street lamp-and the words of her brother.

Roy huffed and curled up on the platform next to her. It wasn't like the bed in the small Glades modular he squatted in, but it was better than some of the benches and curbs he'd slept on in his years on the street.

It seemed only minutes later that he heard someone calling his name.

"Roy? Are you there, Roy? Oliver? Roy? Can either of you hear me?"

He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as his earbud clicked.

"Roy," Felicity's tone was short and urgent. "You and Oliver need to get back here. There's something you have to see."


	5. Chapter 5: One For the Money

Roy wasn't sure where Oliver might be, but he turned to Izzy. She was awake and piecing together a breakfast of instant oatmeal over a small cookstove. Her hands moved automatically, her eyes focused on something else. Roy followed her gaze to the front gate of the DuPries estate. A small door swung open, and Geraldine emerged in her school uniform. Immediately, Izzy reached into her pocket and fingered the phone she kept there. Roy heard it beep softly. Izzy still would not look at him. He scooted closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She shrank away.

"I need to go," he began.

"Go then," she snapped back, finishing her meal and leaving the lidded pot on the extinguished stove as she swung down from the platform. Roy followed her to the ground.

"Hey," he called after her, "I'm sorry."

Izzy had released all her emotions, confessed her pain, and slept off the angst. Now, as she turned and looked at her penitent brother, she realized she could sigh away the rest of her burden. She shook her head. "I'm sorry too," she whispered. She held out her hand to him. "Friends?" She cracked a shy smile.

Roy grinned. "Siblings," he answered, reaching his arm around her shoulders.

Izzy laughed and leaned against him, wrapping her arm around his waist.

"Now, Roy!" Felicity repeated.

Roy looked over at his sister. "Do you want to come back with me?"

Izzy sighed. "Yeah, I think I should. I have a few more apologies to make."

Roy knew he should have expected the wierd looks from everyone as he walked down the stairs the next morning with his arm around the woman who not long ago had expressed a desire to kill him.  
Diggle grinned, "I'm guessing you two made up?"  
Roy ducked his head.

Izzy grinned and murmured, "Well, kinda." She pulled away from Roy and said, "I should apologize for knocking you out earlier. It was totally the wrong way to handle things, and I'm sorry."

Diggle nodded. "You did what you felt was right."

"And it's a good thing, too," Felicity called from in front of the monitors. "Looks like we may have been tripping on a red herring."

Oliver watched Roy and Izzy—once incapable of getting within arms reach of each other—jostle one another playfully as they read over Felicity's shoulder. The sight reminded him of Thea, and the relationship they once shared. Maybe Roy was an okay kid after all.

He shook his head and watched the files appear on the screen. What was Felicity saying about red herrings?  
"You're saying DuPries was a cover?"

"Not exactly," Felicity answered. "You know how Geraldine was attacked by the Madre Muerte guys in the alley when we met Izzy? Well, I did some more digging, and guess what!" She pulled up personnel files and applications for Starling Underground, the pipeworks factory owned by DuPries and Associates.

"He's got members working in his factory," Oliver answered, feeling a crushing sense of defeat. He'd had the guy in his sights, and the man had completely fooled him, making him think that he knew nothing. DuPries was certainly complicit!  
"That can't be!" Izzy cried.

"Face it," Oliver cried vindictively, "DuPries hired Madre Muerte to work for him."  
"I don't think so." Izzy pointed to the top of the form. "Check the date."  
"So?"

"So I happen to know that Mr. DuPries was on vacation with Gerry that day—and he never takes work with him on vacation." She gestured toward the keyboard. "May I?"  
Felicity scooted out of her way with a shrug. "Be my guest."

Izzy proceeded to open each application, and then all the incriminating files. "Check the dates on all these," she said, "and you'll find that they all occurred during times when Gordon was indisposed and could not have filled them out."  
"You're saying he was framed?" Oliver queried.

Izzy turned to face him, "I'm saying that somebody's going through a lot of trouble to defame a good man. Maybe you should start trying to figure out why and who might have it in for Gordon DuPries."

Oliver huffed, but Felicity was already nodding.  
"Okay, Izzy," she said, "Help me look for the info on the trips DuPries took in the last year, and we'll cross reference them with dates on these orders he signed."  
"Allegedly," Izzy reminded her.  
Diggle caught Oliver shaking his head. "It's worth a shot," the former Marine acknowledged.

Oliver glared at him, not ready to support Izzy just yet.  
"Not everybody takes a trip and actually goes somewhere," he reminded his bodyguard. He pulled out his phone and dialed.  
Diggle understood. This was one of the rare opportunities in which Oliver could spend doing his Hood activities full-time because he'd convinced his family he was taking a business trip. Of course, it was a dummy corporation he'd invented for times when he could not afford to be switching back and forth constantly—times like now.  
He traveled back down the stairs.  
"Keep looking," he said when Felicity stopped and turned to him. "I'm going to contact Laurel and see what she's found out."

Across town, Geraldine had just finished school and was now anxiously waiting for the town car. Her dad had admonished her to come straight home, and she'd promised she would. He'd arranged to send his own driver to pick her up. More than ever, Gerry just wanted to be safe with her dad.  
The cream-colored car finally pulled down the street. Gerry waved at Johnston, the driver. He grinned and waved back. No sooner than the car stopped did Gerry throw open the door and dive inside—right into the waiting muzzle of a gun.

"Hello, Geraldine," said the thin, balding man holding the gun. He grinned maniacally. "My name is Jeff, and I'll be your guardian for today." His eyes slipped to Johnston. "Drive or she dies!" he barked. "Take us back to the factory!"  
"Who are you?" Geraldine demanded. "What do you want from me?"

"The only thing I want from you," he growled at her, "is to be silent!" He leered at her suspiciously. "Has the little princess got any electronics on her?"  
Geraldine gulped. "N-n-no," she stammered. "Dad didn't like them, and I never needed them. There's nothing I have that you want, I swear!"

Jeff wagged his head and clicked his tongue. "Aw, that's too bad. Looks like I'm going to have to use my own phone, then." He raised it and dialed, gun still trained on Gerry's head. "Don't make a peep, or I'll blow your brains out.  
A man's voice answered, "Hello?"

"Oh good, you don't screen your calls," Jeff answered. "We have the girl."

"Oh okay," suddenly the man sounded very nervous. Gerry strained to distinguish the voice; was it her father? Had her own father arranged her kidnapping? Or was it someone else familiar? "Um, I'll be by later to check on her."

"I don't think I need to remind you yet again that the Madre Muerte are not to be trifled with."

"I'll be there, I swear!"

"Tsk, tsk! So much swearing going on! But I already know how good your word is. If you're not there by seven, I'm sending out a search party."  
Jeff didn't bother waiting for a response before he ended the call.

When they reached the main factory for Starling Underground, Jeff gagged Geraldine with a cloth and led her out of the car. Johnston emerged too—but it was really another Madre Muerte in disguise. How had they known Geraldine would be waiting for the car driven by DuPries' chauffeur, and not taking the bus or walking with friends as she normally did?  
Geraldine wondered these things as they led her to an out-building on the side of the factory.

"There are two doors," Jeff informed her as he tied her hands, "This one, which leads outside, and that one, which leads into the factory. The outside door will be locked from the outside, and I have guards stationed all along the walkway inside. You will stay here till I send someone for you. Understand?"

Geraldine whimpered around her gag but nodded. She shrank away as Jeff reached out to stroke her cheek.  
"Such a pretty face," he murmured softly. "I'd hate to ruin it." He laughed and shoved her away so hard that she sprawled on the ground. He left, locking the door behind him as promised, and Geraldine was alone.


	6. Chapter 6: Three To Get Ready

By midafternoon, Izzy and Felicity had been through at least all the applications and work orders dealing with specifically Starling Underground.  
Oliver returned from his lunch with Laurel with the knowledge that Madre Muerte's involvement was the result of some deals and loans that were defaulted. Even when presented with the evidence that DuPries was not present during the hiring of the gangbangers, he was still not ready to allow that Izzy might be right.  
"As far as we know," he tried to argue, "it might have been someone else at first, but he managed to rope DuPries into his faulty schemes."  
Izzy wouldn't budge. "He's innocent; he wouldn't be that stupid!"

Izzy's phone beeped softly. She glanced quickly at Felicity's computer.  
"Can I use that?" she asked quickly.  
Felicity scooted out of the way. "Of course," she muttered. "Go ahead."

Izzy tapped a few commands and pulled up a traffic camera on Harding Street. Felicity watched girls pour out of a building wearing matching uniforms: the Starling Girls' Academy.  
Izzy watched carefully till the last student departed.  
She frowned. "Hmmm," she muttered. Izzy pulled up a few more cameras at various points around the city. She entered Gerry's picture into the facial recognition system. The scanner reported no matches. Izzy entered a code into her phone—and frowned again.  
"That's weird," she mumbled.  
Returning to the computer, she brought up the security camera, but this time, she backed up the recording to about an hour previous. This time, the face-match located Geraldine right away.

Oliver was trying to figure out who among the DuPries staff might have access to company funds and a debt to Madre Muerte. He looked up when Izzy swore.  
"Dammit!" she screamed, staring in alarm at the computer screen.  
"What happened?" Felicity lunged to her side. "Did the feed crash? Did the computer fritz?"  
"No!" Izzy moaned. "I'm doomed! We need to get out there now!"  
"What happened?" Oliver demanded from the arsenal.  
"Gerry was kidnapped!" Izzy cried. "Right after school!"

"Running the plates now," Felicity said before anyone asked her. "Okay—vehicle is registered to... Gordon DuPries?"

Izzy shook his head, "That may have been his car, but that wasn't his chauffeur! I don't get it," she began pacing. "Why would Gerry just jump into her dad's car? He never picks her up from school! She always either walks home or takes the bus!"  
"Maybe he arranged it with her this morning," Diggle suggested, "in an attempt to prevent another mugging like the last one."  
Izzy turned on him, "You mean it might actually be _our_ fault that she is now in this mess?"  
"I'm sorry," Oliver butted in, "What part of this scenario tells you that DuPries is not complicit in the whole setup?" He snapped his fingers mockingly, "Oh, that's right! You're convinced he's innocent of all of this."

"He is!" Izzy still maintained her stance. "Have you found any hard evidence that connects him to the Madre Muerte?"

"Hmm, applications from the members for both grants and employment with his signature on them, for starters!"

"Forged!" Izzy retorted. "He's being set up, I promise you!"

"Hey guys," Felicity remarked, "I found the town car parked outside the factory for about ten minutes before it returned to the house."  
"What factory?"  
"Starling Underground, DuPries' factory." Felicity pulled up the footage.

Everyone watched as a man emerged from the driver's seat and opened the rear door to allow a girl and another man out.  
"Zoom in on his face," Oliver ordered.  
Felicity selected the shot of the man's head and refined the image. Oliver saw a small, peaked face, thinning hair, and hungry eyes.  
"I know that man," he mused.  
Felicity was already searching the criminal database. "Here's a match," she announced, "and he's definitely got priors—all gang-related."  
Oliver squinted at the name. "Good enough for me," he stated, grabbing his hood and bow.

"Yes!" Roy punched the air. He jumped off the stool and zipped his own hoodie. "Finally, some action!"  
Oliver turned to him and opened his mouth to object, but changed his mind. "Just..." he warned the trio consisting of Diggle and the Harpers, "don't get in my way. Jeff—and whoever hired him—is mine."  
"Sure thing," Izzy treated the impending attack casually. "We'll take care of the rest of them for you."  
Oliver rolled his eyes as he took the stairs two at a time to put distance between himself and the others.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Glades, Jeff paced anxiously as his companions cleared a space on the floor of the factory.  
"Hurry up!" he barked at them needlessly. "I don't want to be late for my last business conference!"  
One of the men looked up from stringing an old tarp over a length of twine, like a backdrop.  
"How do you know this will work?" he asked dimly.

"It has to!" Jeff snapped back. "Rumor says that the Hood is targeting DuPries already, and the hard-line attorney's going to find the nice airtight paper trail we left that will lead straight to him—" Jeff paused to chuckle. "With Starling City's Own doing all the work for me, what could go wrong?"  
In answer, a green arrow pierced the black tarp and embedded itself in the wooden railing right next to Jeff's hand. He jumped back and tucked his arms against his chest.

"Jeffrey Wyeth!" The demonic voice echoed across the factory floor. No one could tell if it was coming from among the machinery or the rafters. "You have failed this city!"

Jeff crumbled instantly. He began trembling violently. "D-D-don't hurt me, please!" he begged in a thin squeal. His eyes darted around the factory, trying to locate the source of the voice. "I didn't mean any harm! DuPries put me up to it!" Under his breath he fumed at his men, "Don't let him get anywhere near me!"  
The minute one of them moved to shield Jeff, another arrow sliced from the opposite direction and pinned the man's foot to the ground. He screamed as a shadowy figure materialized.

"The next person who tries to get between them gets an arrow to the knee!" a voice not quite as powerful as the Hood, but definitely firm, commanded. The figure dropped down from the rafters and strung the bow again. "Now where is the girl?"  
"I will not be detained!" Jeff shrieked. He waved to the others (excluding the one with an arrow through his foot). "Get them!"  
The first figure was joined by two others, and judging by the way they welcomed the challenge and ignored Jeff, none of them was the Hood.

Jeff waited a few moments, then decided that perhaps the Hood might be trying something else. A flashing light above the factory office told him that his guest was ready for their meeting. Jeff ducked inside.  
"Thank you for coming to meet me here, sir," he said, his throat wobbling as he spoke. "Unfortunately, I could not find the right sort of opportunity to leave this factory in the right sort of hands to come to you myself. I hope that everything is in order on your end."  
"Of course it is!" The man was no less agitated than Jeff himself. "It always has been; haven't I done everything you asked? What was it you wanted to show me?"  
"It's, ah—" Jeff tried to keep talking in order to mask the ruckus outside. "It's being prepared as we speak."

"Prepared how? Are you sure that this will be the key to wiping Gordon's name off the company?"  
Jeff recovered his nerve just in time. He straightened and leered at Madre Muerte's most influential patsy to date: Collin Jacobsen, the Associate of DuPries and Associates.  
"Oh yes," he murmured, "It'll be Collins Pipeworks when we're finished, and you'll own the whole grid."  
Jacobsen finally turned toward the shuttered window. "What is that racket?"

Just then, the lights in the office-in fact, the whole factory-went out.


	7. Chapter 7: Rise of the Guardian

Down on the factory floor, the dozen-or-so thugs stared wildly into the shadows. There were at least three assailants, they knew...but where did they go?

One man heard a noise behind him. He whirled around just in time to see the guy standing right behind him drop like a rock. A shadow breezed by in front of him, and he immediately lunged. He received a sharp jab to the ribs for his effort. Stars burst in his vision as a stiff arm clouted him on the back of his head. The darkness around him deepened, and he couldn't feel anything anymore.

Those with submachine guns gripped them tightly and fired at anything that moved. One man anxiously scanned the shadows among the machinery, ready to fire at the first live thing he saw. The soft beep of a cell phone cost him several bullets at absolutely nothing, and he had only recovered his composure when one of the intruders emerged and yanked the gun out of his hands. Immediately, the thug raised his fists. "You wanna fight?" he challenged gruffly, "Let's fight!"

The hooded figure just stood there. The thug took the first swing. His assailant dodged the blow and struck for himself. The blow landed squarely on the thug's face. Wincing, the thug threw another punch. Hands encircled his wrist, and the burly man felt himself jerked off balance as his arm twisted almost out of its socket, and he flew headfirst into the cement floor.

Roy looked up as Diggle knocked another man unconscious. The dark-skinned bodyguard nodded toward the downed thug at Roy's feet. "Good job," he said.

Roy was still panting. "Thanks," he gasped. They both turned to take on more thugs.

High among the rafters, Izzy was enjoying picking off the thugs one by one with arrows aimed to zing from apparently nowhere. She aimed toward the edges of the steel girders, which blunted the tip as well as changed the trajectory of the arrow, allowing it to drop onto unsuspecting men and cause adequate pain without too much damage, as well as confusing them as to her true location. She was concentrating so hard at aiming so as to hit from a seemingly random direction without giving away her true location that she failed to notice the knife-wielding thug who had discovered her by accident.

Izzy heard Roy shout, "Look out behind you!" and the clatter of bullets he shot echoed around her heels and she turned.

The glinting switchblade dropped from the man's hand, but Izzy sprang at him anyway; she knew it was always smarter to engage an enemy on solid footing first, and then move toward the more dangerous, rather than risk the opponent trapping you in a perilous position and gaining the upper hand.

Izzy drove her fist hard into the man's gut. He covered her face with his hand, and his fingers dug into her temples. Izzy fought the urge to peel it away with her hands and focused on damaging the body attached to the hand. She used what she could see between his fingers to aim as she planted one foot and swung the other, catching him between the legs. Instantly, he released her, and she clouted him across the head as he collapsed.

The commotion attracted the attention of his armed buddies on the catwalk below, and Izzy had to leap onto the fallen body before her to avoid the spray of bullets. She knew that she didn't stand a chance unless she could disarm the men. With a sigh, she waited until one of the men complained of a jammed gun and then sprang over the railing, aiming for the weapons.

In the midst of her tussle with the two men, Izzy's earbud popped.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" Felicity's voice rang through her head. Izzy used the backward momentum of one thug wrapping his arm around her neck and pulling to hoist her boot into the other man's face before gravity took over and she used her captor's weight against him, flinging him over her shoulder and into his partner. She leaned heavily on the railing, panting hard.

"This had better be important!" she grunted, eyeing the two thugs making their way to her from the other side of the factory.

"It is," Felicity answered. "I just heard from Oliver; he's got Geraldine's location from Jeff."

Izzy decided not to stick around for the second fight, but lightly swung herself over the railing and dropped to the factory floor, leaving the other thugs to take the stairs and come after her.

"That fast, huh?" she asked Felicity.

Just then, the door of the office burst open and Oliver emerged, locked in combat with Jeff. The latter hurled the hooded man against the railing and immediately slipped his arm around Oliver's neck in a chokehold, taking care to bear down on Oliver's body so that the taller man couldn't push against him.

The trio on the floor could only watch helplessly. Oliver fought to say something.

"Door!" he rasped. "On your five! Door!"

"Our five?" Roy repeated. "What does that mean?"

Izzy was already turning, "It's a military direction." She saw a padlocked door at "five-o-clock", or just behind and to their right, in the front corner of the warehouse. She ran to it and pounded.

"Gerry?" she called, "Are you in there?"

"Help me!" came the shrill cry from inside.

Izzy's heart raced. She immediately seized the combination lock and began twisting the dial. Her hands shook so bad that she couldn't engage the tumblers. She swore as she had to reset the dial a third time.

Roy appeared at her side and took the lock from her hand. "I've got this," he said quickly, placing his ear almost directly on the mechanism.

A bullet pinged off the door over their heads. Jeff had a pistol! In an effort to get it out of his hand without endangering himself, Oliver had unwittingly endangered his friends.

"Hurry up!" Izzy nagged her brother.

"I'm hurrying!" Roy retorted. At last, the final tumbler slid into place. "Got it!" he crowed.

"Hoods!" Diggle warned, and they all covered their heads.

Izzy glanced back toward Oliver just as he dealt a final blow to Jerry's head, knocking him unconscious.

Roy slipped the lock off and Diggle threw open the door, letting Geraldine run out. She looked around at the three hooded figures, and watched a fourth join them. She froze, mildly terrified.

The fourth figure stepped forward. In a deep, hollow voice, he said, "Geraldine DuPries, we're here to bring you home."

* * *

Roy and Izzy sat together in her platform in the tree, watching Geraldine enter the front gate of her house. Gordon met his daughter in the courtyard, and the two embraced as if neither wanted to let the other go. Roy watched Izzy hug her knees to her chest in just the way Gerry hugged her father. Together, the DuPries walked toward the house, but Gordon hesitated a few paces as Gerry went inside. Izzy saw him take something out of his pocket, fiddle with it a moment, and walk inside. Seconds later, her cell phone beeped. She pulled it out and read the coded message.

She gasped.

"What is it?" Roy asked.

"Inside," Izzy said, her voice quivering. "Mr. DuPries wants me inside." She looked at her brother with wide eyes. "He said, _Bring the other one, too._"

"Other one?" Roy echoed. "Oliver? Or, wait... does he mean _us_?"

Izzy glanced toward the house. Gordon was standing at the second-story bay window, staring out across the grounds in exactly their direction. Could he really see them from there? He turned away.

"I guess so," she answered.

"Why?" Roy cried as he followed his sister out of the tree.

"I don't know," Izzy responded, "but there's only one way to find out."


	8. Chapter 8: Family Values

Izzy reached the gate leading to the driveway and stopped. Roy took her hand and squeezed it.  
"I've never been closer than this," she whispered slowly. She gulped. "What if he doesn't really want to know that I'm the spy he's paying to follow his daughter? What if he doesn't like me? What if this is a trap? What if... What if he's not at all the man I thought he was?" Her words came in a short, gasping rush.  
Roy felt her grip tighten. "Are you scared?" he whispered to his older sister.  
She turned to him with wide eyes. "Terrified," she answered. "Let's go."  
Together, they crossed the threshhold onto the property of Gordon DuPries.

A tall, bland-faced butler answered the door.  
Izzy spoke first. "Mr. DuPries is expecting us," she declared nervously.  
The butler eyed them both dubiously. "And whom shall I announce?" he asked, not yet letting them into the house.  
"My name is Izzy—" she glanced at Roy, "—Harper, and this is my brother Roy." When the butler did not react immediately, she added, "Mr. DuPries knows me as The Ghost." As soon as the words left her mouth, she heard how pretentious and awkward they sounded.  
The butler finally backed away, opening the door as he retreated. "Very good; right this way, please."

Izzy would not let go of Roy's hand as they stepped into the foyer. She gazed around and gasped.  
"I never dreamed a house could look like this!" she breathed.  
Roy smirked; he'd felt the same way visiting Thea at her home.

The butler led them to a spacious study amply lit by bay windows on two sides.  
"The guests you requested, sir," the butler announced. "The Harper children."  
The tall office chair behind the desk rotated, and Roy and Izzy came Dave to face with Gordon DuPries.  
He smiled at them. "I am glad I could make the acquaintance of some of my daughters rescuers," he said. "Come," he gestured over to a grouping of plush chairs and sofas, "Have a seat."

Izzy and Roy shared a love seat while Gordon took the armchair at the corner. He seemed especially focused on Izzy.  
"So this is the money I pay to keep my daughter safe when she goes to school," he mused. His eyes twinkled as he chuckled, "I guess you proved your mettle this week, Madame Ghost!" He transfered his gaze to Roy, "And you say this is your brother?" He extended his hand, "And your name is—"  
"Roy," he took the man's strong hand and shook it firmly.  
Gordon smiled. "Roy and Isabella," he mused.

Roy wondered if he was referring to their parents, but Izzy was shell-shocked.  
"H-h-how..." she gasped, "W-what did you say?"  
Gordon's smile was jovial but not unkind. "That's your full name, isn't it?" he asked her.  
Roy thought if his sister opened her eyes any wider they would just pop out of her head. She could barely get the words out. "How the heck would you know that?"

Gordon gestured to the wall directly in front of him, to the siblings' right. There was a small fireplace, and above the mantel, a portrait of Gordon and his wife. He didn't understand the significance, but Izzy clapped both hands over her mouth.

"Oh my g—" she couldn't make another sound for several minutes. When she did speak, it was single words and disjointed sentences. "But that's—No way! It's her! I never—" she blinked owlishly at Gordon. "But then... If you knew... Then hiring me to shadow Gerry—"  
"Was just an excuse to keep tabs on you," Gordon finished. "I'm afraid so. I wouldn't have thought that having another girl made any difference, but she was strangely adamant about this one."

Roy looked from Gordon's calm face to Izzy's red one. "What's going on?" he asked. "Who is she?"  
"That woman," Izzy answered slowly, "Mrs. DuPries—"  
"Helen," Gordon supplied tenderly.

"She cared for me from the day I was born because my real mom couldn't. She raised me till Roy came along and took me to live with him and—" she glanced at her half-brother, "_Your_ mom." Suddenly Izzy had tears in her eyes. Her chin trembled. "She died a few years back, but if I had known her—"  
"It's all right," Gordon took Izzy's hand and held it comfortingly. "She knew about you, and knew that there was no way you could have known otherwise. Before she died, she gave me something and asked me to pass it on at the proper time." Gordon turned to the little table, opened a hidden drawer, and withdrew a long white envelope. There was a single page covered in delicate, looping handwriting.

_Dear Isabella—_  
_If you're reading this, two things are true: I am gone, and Gordon is a good man to honor me and keep my wishes even after my death. There is one secret that I've kept for all these years that you have to know. Now you will learn who your mother was._  
_You remember that free clinic on Garrity Street? That was where you were born, where your mama worked. Everybody called her Miz Becca. She started the clinic, and ran the thing till that sad day when those hoodlums took her life. But about a year before it happened, she met Roy Harper. They met, they liked each other, and one weekend when she'd had a fight with her husband, he kept her company for a few nights._  
_It came about a few months later that she stopped by my house and told me Roy had given her a baby, said she wouldn't be able to keep it a secret at home, so she wanted to spend a few months in the Glades while her husband was off on some business trip and her son was away on vacation and would never know. She had the baby at her own clinic, and gave it to me to care for and nurse. I raised you like my own child, and Becca would check on you during regular visits. Your mama named you Isabella, but I always called you Bella, cause it meant pretty, and you was beautiful. By and by, when Becca got gunned down, you was not yet two year, and Roy got it in his head that he wanted to be a daddy to his little girl. I told him Miz Becca done asked me to care for the baby, not the baby's daddy, and that if he wanted to live with the baby he was gonna have to take her away and find another woman to care for her. So he did, and I never knew what became of you after that. I met Gordon in college, and we married, but I never forgot about my first child, the baby of the Glades. I had Gerry about a year later, and I started planning how to find you. By the time I knew you'd left Roy's, you were completely gone. I kept searching the Glades, and then I found somebody who looked just like my friend Becca, and that was you. I convinced Gordon to hire you to protect our daughter, but really, what I always wanted was to give you a place to belong, Bella._  
_So that's the truth; you are Isabella Elena Merlyn-Harper, daughter of Rebecca Merlyn and Roy Harper, and I love you._  
_Helen DuPries_


	9. Chapter 9: Reunions

***A/N: Thank you all! As promised, here is the ending! -KM**

* * *

Izzy looked up from the letter with tears in her eyes. Roy's head spun. He knew the Merlyn family by reputation only, and what he had discovered from Felicity of Malcom's involvement with the Undertaking. For Izzy to go from complete stranger to mortal enemy, to reluctant ally-and now _this_-was almost too incredible for belief.

Gordon eyed her carefully, tears in his own eyes.

"I checked over the paperwork, and Rebecca Merlyn did indeed transfer legal guardianship of her baby over to my wife. Therefore, Isabella," he cleared his throat, "I would like to offer you a home-in my home."

Izzy was still fighting to reconcile the reconnection with the woman she once knew and the revelation of the mother she never knew. "What?" she gasped hoarsely.

Gordon glanced at Roy, "This goes for you too, young man. I would be happy to welcome both of you as members of my own household. No more watching from trees, no more hiding in plain sight-you have both lived so long without family, but no more... if you will accept." He glanced from one sibling to the other.

Izzy's chin quivered. The dream she'd suddenly fallen into wouldn't seem to end. She reached out slowly, as if one touch would make the whole scenario disappear. Her hand met Gordon's, and he squeezed it comfortingly. Impulsively, Izzy stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Gordon. He laughed and hugged her. It felt every bit like she always imagined it would.

"Yes!" She gasped as the tears ran down her face and soaked into his polo. "Yes!"

Gordon kept one arm around Izzy's shoulders and extended a hand to Roy. "How about it-son?" he asked.

Roy couldn't make his voice work. He heard Oliver's voice in his earbud. "You can if you want to," his mentor said. "We were wrong; Gordon DuPries is a good man. We have full confessions out of the real conspirators."

In that one comment, Roy knew exactly what he would decide.

"Thanks for the offer," he told Gordon. "But I sort of already have a family."

Gordon nodded. "That's fair; well, anyway, you're always welcome here."

Roy nodded. "I have to go," he said.

"Of course. I'll see-"

"No thanks," Roy shrugged away his offer. "I'll find my own way out." He turned and slowly trudged back toward the front hall.

"Roy, wait!"

Izzy's voice caught him just as he walked out the door. He turned in time to catch her full-on embrace.

"I don't hate you anymore," she whispered to him. "I'm glad I finally got to meet my brother." She pulled back, and the two half-siblings smiled at each other. "Don't be a stranger, 'kay?" Izzy asked.

Roy chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah, okay."

* * *

_**Two weeks later...**_

Oliver straightened the cash register drawer of the Verdant-finally able to reopen under his management-and clicked it shut. Across from him, behind the bar, Roy was poring over the manual on how to mix various drinks and familiarizing himself with the various ingredients. So what if he had at least a year still before he would be legal? Roy Harper had come a long way in earning Oliver's trust, and Verdant needed a bartender. So long as nothing happened during the six-month probationary period beginning with the grand re-opening, Oliver was confident he had nothing to fear.

"Hey!" A voice called. "You guys have anything to drink in here?"

Oliver looked up toward the front door and grinned as Izzy and Geraldine DuPries sailed in hand-in-hand. He straightened his collar and met them in front of the counter.

"Pardon me," he said gravely, "can I see ID's from you two ladies?"

Izzy snorted and rolled her eyes. Gerry giggled.

"Busted!" the younger girl smirked.

Izzy dug out her wallet and showed Oliver the ID. It plainly showed that she was a year older than the legal age. Geraldine, on the other hand, was only a few weeks shy of 21.

Oliver shrugged as if he couldn't help but uphold the rules. "Sorry, we don't serve minors here," he stated.

"Whatever!" Izzy cried, dragging Gerry over to the bar where Roy stood. "What's your policy on being served _by _a minor?" she jabbed her finger at her younger brother.

Oliver sighed; she had him there.

Just then, Izzy's face broke into a grin, and the three friends shared a laugh. Even Gerry joined in.

Izzy surveyed the club approvingly. "It looks a lot better than the last time I was here," she mused.

Oliver, meanwhile, was surveying her. "You look better, too, Izzy." The young woman had forgone the scuffed jeans and dirty hoodie for fashionable skinny jeans, suede ankle-boots and a cute floral top.

She shrugged and hopped onto a barstool. "I go by Bella now," she stated easily.

Oliver nodded; Bella seemed to fit her and the new look much better than Izzy had.

Bella slapped the bar, "We'll take two strawberry daiquiris," she said.

Behind her, Oliver cleared his throat noisily. Bella huffed.

"Make one virgin," she groaned.

Roy grinned and shook his head as he mixed the drinks.

"What's the occasion?" Oliver joined the pair at the bar.

Bella took a sip of her drink, nodded her approval to Roy, and announced, "Gerry and I are getting ready to go overseas as exchange students with a girl's academy in Oxford."

"Of course, we're going to tour Europe first," Gerry added.

"That sounds great," Oliver remarked.

Just then, a cell phone beeped. Gerry pulled one out of her purse. "It's Dad," she told Bella. "He wants to know if we'll be back in time for dinner before the ballet."

Bella took one last sip of her daiquiri. "Have I ever gotten you home late?"

Gerry nodded and began texting the reply.

Oliver walked the two girls to the door. Bella stopped as they reached the entrance and she told Gerry, "Go wait in the car, I'll be out in a sec." Gerry nodded and left her with Oliver.

Bella waited till Gerry was out the door, then she told Oliver, "The DuPries' may be my legal family now, but y'all are still my _real _family," she confessed. "Take care of my brother, okay?"

Oliver nodded. "He'll be fine, I promise."

Bella smiled and exited the building. Oliver watched the two of them pull out. _As one "guardian" to another, _he thought, _it's going to be okay._


End file.
